Weekend Collection

Most things get cold when they die. Not refrigerators. Our refrigerator decided to give up so Friday we purchased a new one. Appliances - we are at their mercy. Of course, the one I wanted the most was outrageously expensive. Hubby was hearing none of that. So we got one almost exactly like the one we had. Parts of me are wondering if that was really stupid. All of our appliances are bisque. None of the refrigerators in stock are bisque. We order the bisque one and get a frighteningly small loaner from the store. Check back in two weeks for new-fridge-happiness.

Hubby's parents visited on Saturday evening. Due to the death of the fridge, all my best intentions of impressing them with a home-cooked meal went out the window. We ended up with an impressive meal from Pizza Ranch. After our deluxe meal (I can do better! I promise!), we played a rousing game of Monopoly. When in a time crunch, people trade properties like its nobody's bizness. At one point I had one of every color. My brother is impressed, I am sure.

I do not belong in the back of church. There are children everywhere and they are so incredibly entertaining that I have trouble focusing on the service. Also, these same adorable children often do very naughty things. There is some unspoken Mom code that the women sitting in the back pews seem to follow. None of them laugh at the children who do really hilarious, yet naughty, things. I, on the other hand, cannot contain myself. For example, the child who yells "Please don't spank me" as their mom hauls them out of church makes me laugh. The kid who decides church is just boring and walks out makes me laugh. The kid who takes the hymnals and slams them around in the book rack makes me laugh. So there I sit, snickering and snittering my way through the service. Moms don't give me dirty looks. Oh no. Instead they give me the just-wait-till-its-your-turn look. I know they are right. I am determined to enjoy the time it isn't my turn. I will continue to laugh.

Our Amazing Race group has started again. These people know how to entice me...they had chocolate mocha cheesecake. I had one piece, for those of you who are wondering.

Epizudicous. That's the word my mom used to describe mysterious illnesses or just icky-feelings. Similar to gobble-de-gook. I have some epizudicous in my throat and it is annoying me. For the most part I feel okay. But I am hoping I am feeling super duper soon and that Reagan doesn't get whatever this gobble-de-gook is. Funny how having children turns your language in to a bunch of mumbo-jumbo. Oops. Did it again.